Part 24 (2/2)

said Phil, with a grin; ”or the other fellows either, for that matter.

But as it turned out, it was the best thing that could have happened for the Beans. He wasn't much of a pitcher.”

”What do you mean?” asked w.i.l.l.y, beginning to be interested. ”Did they get another pitcher?”

”Did they? Well, I should remark! I let on in a casual way that the former pitcher of a certain college team was not more than a hundred miles from the spot at that moment. You should have seen that fellow's face, Margaret. It really was a study. Perfect bewilderment for a minute, and then--well, I believe he would have gone down on all fours and carried Jerry to the field if he would not have gone in any other way.”

”Oh! please, Phil. I am bewildered, too. Is Gerald a--a pitcher?”

”Is he? My child, he is the great original North American jug.”

”Oh, pooh!” said Gerald. ”Don't be an a.s.s, Ferguson! You are as good a first-baseman as I am pitcher, any day. Of course we were glad to help them out, though I drew the line at scarlet breeches. My mother's angry shade hovered above me and forbade.

”'Go fight in fortune's deepest ditches, But oh, avoid the scarlet breeches!'

I could hear her say it. So I told him that my hair and my temper were the only red I ever wore, and he submitted, though sadly. So we played; and it was a great game. And we smote them hip and thigh, even to the going down of the sun; or would have, if the day had been shorter. Phil made three runs, Will.”

”Jerry made three more Will,” said Phil; ”and pitched like one o'clock, I tell you. I never saw you play better, Obadiah. Those last b.a.l.l.s were perfect peaches. I wish you had seen the game, Margaret.”

”So do I,” said Margaret. ”I have never seen a game of baseball.”

”Oh! I say!” cried Phil and w.i.l.l.y. ”What a shame!”

”Where do you live?” asked w.i.l.l.y, in such open wonder and commiseration that the others all laughed.

”She lives in an enchanted castle, w.i.l.l.y,” said Gerald; ”with a magician who keeps her in chains--of roses and pearls. He has two attendant spirits who help to keep her in durance that is not precisely vile. How is Mrs. Cook, Margaret? Do you know, you have hardly told me anything about Fernley all this time? I want to know ever so many things. What became of the pretty lady whose house was burned? Do you remember that?

I never shall forget it as long as I live.”

”Indeed, I do!” said Margaret, blus.h.i.+ng. ”She is still abroad, Gerald. I doubt if she ever returns, or at least not for a long time. She is well, and really happy, I think. Isn't it wonderful?”

”You didn't see Miss Wolfe come down the ladder!” said Gerald. ”That was the most wonderful thing I ever saw. Just as she stepped out on the window-sill, the fire caught the hem of her skirt. I thought she was gone that time. I was just going to drop you and run, when she stooped and squeezed the skirts together--woollen skirts, fortunately--and put it out; and then came swinging down that rope to the ladder, and down the ladder to the ground, as if she had been born in a circus. I tell you, that was something to see. Pity you missed it.”

”Why did she miss it?” asked w.i.l.l.y. ”And what do you mean by dropping her, Jerry?”

Gerald, whose eyes were s.h.i.+ning with the excitement of recollection, turned and looked down at his small brother as if suddenly recalling his existence.

”Margaret was--busy!” he said, briefly. ”And, I say, Father William, don't you want to take my biky down and give him a feed of oats? he is hungry. See him paw the ground!” and he gave the bicycle a twirl.

”I must go,” said Phil, remounting his own. ”Come along, w.i.l.l.y, and I'll race you to Camp.”

But for once w.i.l.l.y held back. ”I was going to take Margaret to see a redwing's nest,” he said. ”I promised her I would.”

”Oh! Margaret will excuse you,” said Phil. ”Won't you, Margaret?

Redwings' nests always look better in the morning, besides. Come on, boy, and I'll tell you all about the game.”

w.i.l.l.y still hesitated, looking at Margaret; and she in her turn hesitated, blus.h.i.+ng rosy red. ”Don't let me keep you, w.i.l.l.y dear,” she said. ”If you would like to hear about the game--”

”_Go on_, young un!” said Gerald, in a tone of decision so unlike his usual bantering way, that w.i.l.l.y stared, then yielded; and slowly mounting the bicycle, started off with Phil along the road.

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